


No Business Touching You

by snarry_splitpea



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, BDSM, Background Het, Background Relationships, Boss/Employee Relationship, Choking, Desk Sex, Embarrassment, Face Slapping, Family Feels, Found Family, Hair-pulling, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Office Sex, Porn With Plot, Romance, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:36:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarry_splitpea/pseuds/snarry_splitpea
Summary: Graves had always enjoyed his meetings with the reedy little man with the interesting beak of a nose. Respected him as a good employee. Treated him vaguely like a colleague. ...but when someone puts a bug in his ear about Abernathy's rather heated crush on him, Percival Graves has a hard time not collecting on unspoken promises.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seasonsgredence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasonsgredence/gifts).



> Thank Little_abyss for putting in all these lovely little gestures, suggestions, and helping me generate a sense of tension between our two boys <3

Abernathy rarely met Percival's eye when they spoke.  Percival listened to him give terse reports over his desk.  The man standing with his shoulders rolled forward, hands rubbing together with the full force of his nerves.  Eyes on Percival's paperwork or the small globe in the bookshelf behind his head.  Graves always took those moments to stare at him. Pleased, somewhere subconsciously, by his subordinate's fear of him.  He supposed the only reason the fear didn't bother him was the fact that he'd always been fair.

 

To everyone.

 

Abernathy, included.  The man's sniveling sort of aversion to his gaze was purely personal.  Likely some reaction to the fact that Percy was an authority figure.  Graves simply sat.  Silent as death.  Staring pointedly at the face that would never turn fully toward him, his gaze free to roam over the sheen of sweat on Abernathy’s top lip, to watch the way his hands would compulsively clutch at the fabric of his trouser legs.  He never gave his other employees such rapt attention for things as trivial as cross-departmental reports.  There was just something satisfying about the slight, nervous stutter in Abernathy's voice.  One Percival never heard when the man was speaking with others.

 

In fact, when Percival Graves overheard Abernathy's presentations from a hallway or some private correspondence while Abernathy sat at his desk, unaware that Percy had entered his office, the man's voice sounded clear.  Authoritative. What a pleasure it was to make a person that could successfully supervise multiple departments in an organization as large as the Magical Congress of the United States of America... snivel.  Because that's what it was. Fucking sniveling.  Even Abernathy’s  _ voice _ was a pathetic whine. He barely stifled a derisive snort as Abernathy stammered to a halt.  Graves grinned at the eyes that wouldn't look at him and tapped the end of his pen on the desk, finally saying what he always said when their meetings were done.

 

"Adequate report, Abernathy. You rarely disappoint."

 

And, as always, there was that flicker where Abernathy would check his face for a sign of disdain and then sigh with relief as he caught the Directer's soft grin.  He wondered if Abernathy knew he'd never disappointed him - that his professional performance was always more than adequate - and realize it was a joke.  Or, better yet, if Abernathy agonized over how he'd managed to disappoint his superior.  Graves watched the man, saw him wipe a sweaty hand on his slacks, and raised his eyebrows.  “Abernathy?  Was there something else?”

 

A quick shake of the head, and a dart of the eyes.  Well.  This was new.   _ Finally getting some spine, are we _ ? Graves wondered and smiled slightly.  Good.  It was about time.

 

Percival wondered how long Abernathy would stay if he didn’t dismiss him. Stared up at the man as Abernathy stared back.  Held his gaze with something like pride. He wouldn’t play games with his subordinate.  Wouldn’t waste either of their time.

 

“I’ll see you, next week, Abernathy.”

 

The man blinked, and Graves watched his throat work as he swallowed.  Switching the beige folders from one hand to the other, he dipped his head quickly, turned, and without another word, left Percival’s office, closing the door respectfully behind him.  Odd, pondered Graves, that a man so obviously cowed by him could also be so utterly fascinating.

* * *

 

In stark contrast to Abernathy’s servitude was Tina’s forwardness.

 

The first time Graves visited the no-maj bakery, after hours, was because Tina, desperate and injured, had begged him to catch a loose creature of Newt's.  He still recalled the broken glass mingled with spilt pastries, strewn over the floor - the scent of the cold night air mingling with the warm smell of yeast and sugar.  Once they'd both healed each other's minor scratches and bruises, she begged him with round eyes, her hands clasped under her chin, not to exterminate or report the wretched little thing.  Insisted that the animal was usually quite sweet but was reacting poorly to Newt's repeated absences. Before making a stern fire call to Newt about leaving unattended creatures in his jurisdiction, Graves had assured the whole household that their secrets were safe with him. After all, another secret was standing right in front of him in the form of Jacob Kowalski.  

 

Percival believed the bans on creatures and no-maj/magic relations in the United States were both absolutely idiotic.  As much as Graves had dedicated his life to keeping the law, he also considered himself a fair judge of what was okay and what wasn't.  He wasn't, usually, much of a rule breaker but he did it when people ended up in unfair situations.

 

Newt Scamander was a dear friend's younger brother and damn good at his job. Jacob and Queenie had only managed to fall in love with one another.  Percival had no intentions of seeing them punished for what shouldn't have be crimes.

After all, how could a man that loved men when there were federal laws against sodomy in both the no-maj world and the magical one stop any other person from safely living out their passions?  Graves was no hypocrite.

Newt, a kind but disrespectful and flighty little shit, had tried to hide a few more creatures from Percival's aurors. Each time one of them stepped out of line, Tina had come running.  Graves tried his best to keep their lives from overlapping too frequently.  Yet, despite his best efforts he’d become something like a friend to Tina.  The woman even had the gall to start inviting him to dinner almost every night.

 

"Newt's back in town and we're going to celebrate."

 

Graves declined.

 

"You're not near your family, are you? If you wanted to come over for Independence day..."

 

Graves declined.

 

"Mister Graves, we are all so grateful for your support and hard work.  We'd like to honor you for..."

 

Graves declined.

 

"I know it's my day off, but I was just in the area. Thought I'd stop by your office to let you know the gang's getting together for a night of drinks and cards. It's no big deal.. justmybirthday... I guess you didn't get the invitation Newt sent you. If you wanted to st... you're not even listening, are you?"

 

He'd nodded even as he shook his head and mumbled something indiscernible.  Tina walked off in a huff.  Graves sighed as he turned a page in the file he was reading. 

 

They'd been through so much together.  It was even Newt and Tina's actions that lead to his rescue after his defeat and imprisonment by Grindelwald.  They'd all visited him as he lie in a hospital for weeks.  Graves didn't mean to be rude.  Not to a group of people that had shown him so much care.  He just didn't like anyone being intimately involved in his life.  He didn't want to be too intimately involved in theirs.

 

The following day, Queenie had poked her head into his office after he mumbled a distracted "Come in."  He narrowed his eyes at the woman.  Part of him feared her.  She was dangerously charming and usually tricked him into conversations he wouldn’t usually be so comfortable having with anyone.  Her smile disarmed him despite his lack of interest in women.

 

"Percy!"

 

"Mrs. Kowalski."

 

His acknowledgement of her made the woman twist fully into the room.  Her skirts fluttering around her hips as she approached his desk without invite.  She had a wrapped bundle in her arms and Graves could already smell roasted meat and the sour notes of vegetables stewed in some tangy sauce.  Without thinking, the man licked his lips, eyes fixed on the tied fabric in her hands.

 

"Oh dear, you must be famished after staying in your office, this late," she started as she slammed the food down on his desk.  He was almost offended by the way she'd stacked his work to the side, but she wouldn't shut up long enough for him to get angry. "I hear you keep telling my Teeny 'no' when she asks you to come over and eat.  Since I know it's not my cooking you're avoiding, I figured it must be the company.  Well, we'd rather you eat alone than starve to avoid us.” 

“However, when you start hating us a little less,” Queenie continued. “The invitation's always open.  We eat dinner every night at exactly 6.  I know you're the most handsome man most of us have ever met, but I still don't see why Teeny idolizes you. Yeah, you've got a way with your wand and a girl really does have to blush at the sexy things you wear, but only my sweet, little, forgiving Teeny would make such a cruel man her hero. We all miss you at the bakery, Percy.  Hope we'll get to have dinner with you, soon."

 

And she was gone.  Queenie had expertly prepared an elaborate place-setting for his meal and tidied his office with overlapping spells as he'd watched in stunned silence.  She usually wasn't much of a talker. So, Graves knew she'd babbled intentionally. Likely knowing he was too polite to interrupt.  He grimaced at the way she'd slathered on compliments he couldn't help but want to smile at and then dismissed herself with a loud slam of his office door.  The fucking audacity!

 

But

 

Looking down at a steaming plate of pot-roast... how could any man be angry?  There was even a pat of butter floating near his hand for the baked potato.  Graves sighed. He'd managed to keep his relationships with his coworkers strictly professional for years.  Had avoided making friends, in general, so people wouldn't learn his deepest secret.  ...but he'd need to accept Tina's invitation soon or end up getting hexed by her sneakily ruthless sister.

 

It didn't occur to him to worry if Queenie had poisoned him until he was half done, eating.  He shrugged at his plate, decided it definitely wasn't the worst way to go, and finished his meal.  He’d visit Jacob’s bakery the following day and many days after that.

 

It wasn’t long before Graves sitting with their family forced him to make a rather uncomfortable observation. Queenie's intuitive nature went beyond simply being observant. He often caught her answering questions that nobody had asked.  One night, she’d even cooked one of his favorite childhood meals almost -exactly- as he remembered it.  She’d also given him sad little looks when he thought about his own loneliness. Thoughts of envy about the way Jacob looked at her.  The way Newt looked at Tina. The way they respected Credence’s aversion to crowds and let him eat alone in his bedroom, upstairs.

 

"So, tell me Mrs. Kowalski, are you a legilimens?"

 

Jacob froze at the kitchen counter, a knife immediately flipped from chopping to being clutched dangerously in his hand. Newt and Tina looked to each other with open-mouthed shock. Queenie seemed to think for a long moment before pulling a strand of curly hair behind her ear and saying it was okay for him to know. 

 

"He's one of us, now" she'd said, solemnly.  In fact, they all looked a little sad.  Good Lord, what had he gotten himself into?

 

"I'm a legilimens.  ...and I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good," Queenie smiled over at him.  The feigned joy not reaching her eyes. "I don't mean to pry.  Things just come to me.  Constantly."

 

Graves closed his eyes.  Swallowed. So, she knew about him... she knew and it seemed like she'd told everyone in the room.

 

"I'd said if you ever found out, I'd tell you that we love ya, Percy... and we know you've got a job to do,” Queenie continued.  The smile she strained for started to crack.  Her voice trembled.  “None of us want to obliviate the Directer of Magical Security at the MACUSA.  I know I can't live free with these powers, but damnit I wanna live."

 

His eyes snapped over to Jacob. Still holding the knife as if he’d skip right past letting someone obliviate Graves and just stab him. His eyes switched to Newt. To Tina. They didn't know he was a sodomite.  They thought he was a snitch.  He laughed subtly but with great relief.  He took a moment to rub a hand down his face before opening his mouth to speak.

 

"OH!  Oh, you won't turn me in??  Oh, Percy!" Queenie didn't give him time to reassure them.  His thoughts about protecting her from the MACUSA the same way he did Newt and Jacob must have flooded into her mind.  Teary-eyed and grateful, she'd rounded the table with her arms spread and bent down to give him a big hug.

 

Still holding him, she whispered, "Good lord, Teeny's jealous of me, right now. Guess she doesn't know neither of us are your type."

 

Entertained, he hugged her back and peeked over her shoulder to catch Tina's eye.  The brunette quickly looked away.  No, he didn't like women in the slightest... but he loved to see anyone flustered over his attention.

 

Queenie stepped out of his embrace and went around the table to hug, Jacob. She pried the knife out of his hand and sat it down.  The man didn’t look at all ashamed of his subtle threat and leveled Graves with a stare.  He was a nice guy.  Probably not even that great with a knife… but he’d protect his family.

 

Graves could feel their relief lighting the room up.  He wondered how long they'd feared him finding out.  Why they'd wanted to spend time with him at all if it was such a big risk.

 

"We like you, honey," Queenie answered his unspoken question. "Do you have any questions for me?  For any of us?"

 

Graves's brow furrowed.  He had two questions but only one needed asking. "If I've protected Newt and Jacob, this long.  Why did any of you assume I'd turn Queenie in?"

 

Jacob was the one to butt in. "Cuz who am I, right?  Just some guy.  You turn us in for getting married and I'd just get obliviated. Queenie would end up with a fine... she'd probably find me, again, and we'd do the same thing all over again."

 

Newt coughed as Jacob finished. "And I'm more useful to the MACUSA and, by extension, you if I have my creatures and I'm free to roam.  You could take them away and slap some travel ban on me... but then who's gonna find out how to train unicorns to cry tears of joy?"

 

"And me," Queenie smiled.  A bit nervously. "Well, honey, I'm as useful as they come.  The MACUSA would have a field day with me in a courtroom or during an investigation. So..."

 

"Yes," Percival was completely unashamed to agree and to interrupt. "But they'd also never let you out of their sight.  You'd never see Jacob, again. Might only get to see Tina because she works there. Legilimens of your caliber are exceedingly rare and tend to end up on lockdown.  Sort of a gilded cage, situation.  I wouldn't do that to a friend."

 

Queenie smiled.

 

Graves rolled his eyes.  His thoughts were of relief.  That they didn’t pity him for being a childless bachelor in his forties.  That they thought of him as a friend despite his usual silence.

 

"Oh, honey, I'm gonna give you a little present," Queenie offered.  Her smile turning suspiciously devious as she let Jacob go. Jacob tensed as she left his side to approach Graves, again.  The first hug had practically had Queenie sitting in Percival's lap. What more could she give? Tina clenched a fist. Graves would, someday, thank Queenie for not telling anyone about his inclinations. 

 

"You need to pay attention at your next meeting with Abernathy," she whispered in his ear.  She listened to the rest of the room strain to hear her but they couldn't. "He's as obsessed with you as Teeny. Would do absolutely anything for you... and, believe me you two boys have all the most delicious things in common."

 

She punctuated the last statement by standing up to wink at him.

 

Abernathy... Abernathy... his mind flipped through the dozens of people he dealt with on a daily basis and the man’s face quickly came to him.  A decent supervisor with far too many responsibilities.  He was over several departments, mostly dealing in permits.  His reports were how Magical Security got the information to issue warrants on expired and fraudulent wand, broom, and pet permits. Thin guy.  Graves could likely pick him up with one arm and toss him.  Not an ugly man. Cute, in fact.  More like a boy than a man.  Younger than Graves but probably older than Tina. He'd been at the MACUSA for years.

 

Percival shrugged off Queenie's words.

 

Graves had been professional in his fascination with Abernathy's servile nature.  Strictly amused.  Strictly business. Though he was entertained by Abernathy's bouts of meekness, he hadn't actually imagined how their dynamic might shift outside of work meetings and awkward elevator rides until that moment.

 

That night, Percival imagined what might happen if he caught the man in an alley outside of a bar on a not-so-busy night.  What would happen if he instructed Abernathy to stay in his office, after hours.

 

With Tina back in Investigations, there was no excuse for Percival to pop down to the Permits office, the following morning. He could feign a visit to Queenie but he didn't want anyone making assumptions about his relationship with her.  He also didn't want her making comments about his real reason for being there. If he couldn't find an excuse to see Abernathy in a room full of people, there was definitely no excuse to visit the man's office.

 

It had been a long time since Percy met another man who bedded men. He still wasn't entirely sure he wanted to.

  
Percival grimaced at himself as he straightened the papers on his desk.  He was going to stop thinking about reedy, little Abernathy with his narrow hips and boyish, little face that didn’t seem to have grown enough to catch up with its nose.  He was going to throw a hex at Queenie, next time he saw her.  Because, fuck, this was all Queenie's fault.  As many things seemed to be since Graves started spending more time around Tina's hodgepodge family.


End file.
